Leo Yankevich

Silver Star - 3,448 Points (October 30,1961 / Farrell, Pennsylvania)

Leo Yankevich Poems

241. Billie 5/7/2008
242. Black Oak 5/15/2008
243. Bethlehem 5/7/2008
244. Baroque Nativity Scene 3/13/2011
245. A Hater Learns About Love 7/27/2010
246. Barcelona,1936 2/12/2008
247. No Flowers, No Doves 9/22/2004
248. Ah, Love 2/6/2009
249. Eastertide 9/22/2004
250. After The Old Masters 2/7/2009
251. Break Of Dawn 2/13/2008
252. An Autumn Evening 12/26/2007
253. Babcia 4/10/2011
254. At A Suicide’s Grave(1869-1897) 8/13/2009
255. After 20 Years Of Marriage 5/12/2009
256. A Warning To Dissidents 3/6/2006
257. A Tiny Glow 9/20/2004
258. A December Wish 2/11/2008
259. Apollo’s Archaic Torso 5/4/2008

Comments about Leo Yankevich

  • Margaret O Driscoll Margaret O Driscoll (7/13/2015 4:10:00 AM)

    Glad I checked out your poetry, just read Mother In The Garden and it nearly had me in tears!

    9 person liked.
    2 person did not like.
  • Amir Mohammad Islami Chalandar (6/6/2014 7:51:00 AM)

    excellent poems. you are great in explaining your feels. i invite you to read my poem

    13 person liked.
    2 person did not like.
  • Dennis N. O'brien Dennis N. O'brien (10/27/2012 6:04:00 PM)

    Thanks for posting your poems here - I enjoy reading them.
    Best wishes
    Dennis N. O'Brien

    19 person liked.
    2 person did not like.
  • Michael Shepherd (9/21/2004 8:13:00 AM)

    Leo - I am moved by and admire your poems enormously. Will you tell michael@shepherd87.fsnet.co.uk if you have published, or intend to publish? Best wishes.

    17 person liked.
    2 person did not like.
Best Poem of Leo Yankevich

After 20 Years Of Marriage

Here is a river with a little boat
moored beside its bank. The boat's the colour
of oranges in the south of Greece, all bloody
and ripe with sweetness, while the bank's the colour
of meadows in the north of France, deep green
with a heifer's downy mane, a country rose.
Love, I shall never take you to those places.
I've squandered all my gold upon the water,
which for you mirrors the eternal sun.

Read the full of After 20 Years Of Marriage

The Last Silesian

Above us: cawing rooks and grey clouds.
Around us: leafless trees and falling snow.
It’s late in January, 60 years
since Gleiwitz-Petersdorf was “liberated.”

Anne, a frail and tiny woman of eighty,
and the last Silesian on our street,
points her left hand toward the frozen ground
and rests her right upon a walking stick.